


Mother's Day

by Haberdasher



Series: Twitch Plays Pokemon [27]
Category: Pocket Monsters | Pokemon (Main Video Game Series), Twitch Plays Pokemon (Let's Play)
Genre: Fluff, Gen, Mother's Day, Mother-Son Relationship, Twitch Plays Platinum, Twitch Plays Pokemon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-12
Updated: 2014-05-12
Packaged: 2018-03-03 08:37:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,517
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2844797
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Haberdasher/pseuds/Haberdasher
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Napoleon returns home for Mother's Day.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Mother's Day

It had been such a long journey.

It was kind of embarrassing, but Napoleon had never been away from home on his own for very long. Now here it was, going on nine days from the voices’ arrival, and he was such a long, long way from Twinleaf Town, from the town where he’d spent his entire life. Sure, Pearl bumped into him every once in a while, but it wasn’t the same as being back home.

And, as the voices kept helpfully reminding him in their own unique fashion, it was Mother’s Day. Half of the mentions of mothers, his own or otherwise, involved obscenities and worse, some dirty words that Napoleon had never heard before in his young life, descriptions that made his skin crawl. But there was no escaping the voices, no matter how much he hated their constant talking, no matter how much he would have given to clear his mind for even a moment.

To make things even worse, the voices had made him release one of the Pokemon he’d had around for quite some time now, a Bidoof who was never allowed to evolve no matter how strong she grew. Not only was he stuck dealing with the chaos of the voices, but today came yet another reminder that his innocent Pokemon, too, were having to suffer the consequences of the voices’ actions. He tried to justify it by thinking that it wasn’t his doing, it was theirs, but the loss stung all the same, reminding him that nobody around him was safe.

Napoleon couldn’t help but wonder if, before the capture, his beloved Bidoof had been a mother. Maybe he- they- took her away from her children. Maybe they were dead now, killed because they no longer had a mother to protect them, dead because of him.

Happy Mother’s Day, huh?

But then, late in the day… something strange happened.

The voices started moving backwards, taking paths that they had taken before. That in and of itself wasn’t so unusual, at least not at the beginning, as he had grown used to the constant meandering and often nonsensical movement. But as time went on, it became clear that this wasn’t a case of mistaken movement, or of aimless wandering in circles.

He didn’t realize the pattern in their speech, the goal that they meant to achieve, until his feet had led him back to Twinleaf Town, back to the house that he had been missing.

The house looked exactly as he’d left it, inside and out. That shouldn’t have come as a surprise, given that he’d only been gone for a little over a week, but it still did. Napoleon was on this big crazy journey, and yet tucked away in Twinleaf Town, his home was still standing there just as he remembered it, as if nothing at all had changed.

Immediately after entering the house, he ran up to his mother, who was sitting in the middle of the room on a cushion sipping some tea, and gave her a big hug.

Her tea cup fell to the floor, the tea splattering across the ground, but his mother’s eyes darted not to the tea that was now staining her beloved throw rug but to Napoleon’s face. “Napoleon? Honey, what are you doing here? Aren’t you supposed to be off on your big adventure?”

"Happy Mother’s Day, Mom." His voice was soft, a mere whisper that nonetheless made its way to her ear.

He lingered in their hug, not wanting to let go. He had never been much of a hugger, but after… well, after everything that had happened, he suddenly realized that he had needed one.

Their embrace finally ended, and she held him at arm’s length. “You, my dear, look filthy. You need to take care of yourself out there, okay? I know I’m not there to watch you, but… it’s a scary world out there, and I just want to know you’re prepared, alright honey?”

Napoleon chuckled softly. The voices wouldn’t let him eat or sleep, let alone change into clean clothes, but hearing her concern after all this time brought a smile to his face nonetheless. “Yes, Mom.”

She tucked a strand of hair behind her ear and sat back down on her cushion, still ignoring the spilled tea; he sat down too, a bit too hastily, unable to move far enough away to avoid covering his pants in hot tea. The heat wasn’t all that much more unpleasant than the rest of his aches and pains, though, and as Napoleon could tell from the dirt that he had transferred to his mother’s clothes and the wide-eyed look on her face that he was dirty enough that a few tea stains wouldn’t make much of a difference.

His mother studied his face for a few moments. “You didn’t even give yourself time to pack for your big journey, did you? Is that why you’re here? I have plenty of clean clothes saved up for you, and you can go take a bath if you’d like, or take a nap- your bed’s been made, and I can always wash the sheets for you, I wouldn’t mind-“

Napoleon shook his head. “No, no, I just… I wanted to wish you a happy Mother’s Day, I suppose. It is Mother’s Day, right? I haven’t been keeping track, but they told me it is…”

"They?" She raised an eyebrow. "Oh well, it doesn’t matter. Yes, it’s Mother’s Day, and thank you so much for stopping by! I’m always glad to see you, sweetie!"

He stood up. The voices were growing impatient. Some resented the detour, it seemed, and wanted to leave and return to the usual wandering. “Mom, before I go, I… I want to say…” The words kept catching in his throat. He hadn’t said them in a long time, far, far too long. “I love you.”

Silence hung in the air for several seconds.

"…are you okay, honey? You don’t look so good. Do you need to go lie down? Or I can whip up some dinner for you…"

Another sharp laugh. “No, nothing’s wrong with me, Mom. I promise.” A white lie. Telling your mother a lie on Mother’s Day is probably not the best thing to do, but Napoleon didn’t know what else to do. Tell her he hadn’t slept or eaten since he’d woken up almost nine days ago? Tell her he heard voices in his head that controlled almost his every move? No. No, far better to tell a lie than to make her worry like that.

"Are your Pokemon okay? Here, let me get some medicine for them… anything to help you out, honey…"

He tried to choke out another lie, say that his Pokemon were fine, but two lies in a row on Mother’s Day was just too much to bear. His Pokemon weren’t fine. They were forced to battle until collapsing on a regular basis, or rot in the PC, or… or get released like Bidoof… No, his Pokemon weren’t fine. But she didn’t need to know that. “…okay.”

She got out a few spray bottles and used them on his Poke Balls. “There you go! Anything else I can do for you?”

"N-no…" He threw herself at her for a hug again. "Happy Mother’s Day, Mom… again… and… and…" He had to say it again. Just in case. Because he didn’t know when- or, as the dark recesses of his mind suggested, if- he would be able to say it to her again. "I love you, Mom. I really, really do."

"I love you too. Don’t you forget it." Her arms felt warm, so warm… but maybe it was just that he had grown cold…

He stood up again, and the voices made him start walking away. He wanted more time- he could stay there forever, he felt, just as he had before, even if it meant having voices detail what horrible things they wanted to do to his mother for the rest of his life. But he was powerless to stop them.

"I, uh, have to go now. But I’m glad I got to see you."

"I’m glad I got to see you too." She was grinning widely, and her face was aglow. "Stay safe out there, you hear me?"

"Whatever you say."

As the door slammed shut, Napoleon reflected on his journey, on the last time he’d left his home. So much had happened since that day. He’d beaten Gym Leaders, lost dear friends, wandered halfway across Sinnoh…

He still had voices in his head, shouting commands and obscenities and gibberish at any given moment. He still couldn’t help but move in the way this strange chaotic force demanded, even when that meant running into walls or releasing his friends. He still couldn’t  get the rest that his body so sorely needed, or do something to help with all the bites and scratches and stains that now covered every inch of his body. And there was still no end in sight.

But at least it was Mother’s Day.


End file.
